


The Intruder - Tales from the Lost Light

by GuppyBot



Series: Tales from the Lost Light [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Lemon, Overloads (Transformers), Rape/Non-con Elements, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, The Transformers: Lost Light, valveplug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuppyBot/pseuds/GuppyBot
Summary: The Lost Light has been invaded. Drift is abducted and sticky sexual interfacing ensues.
Series: Tales from the Lost Light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024312
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	The Intruder - Tales from the Lost Light

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this work contains non-consensual elements. If you feel as though this would bother you, please turn back.

Sirens blared down the corridors, echoing into every corner of the Lost Light. Red lights flashed on and off, telling every mech on board that this was _not_ a drill.

As he sprinted to the bridge, the young prime could barely focus on how to fix this emergency. The sirens overwhelmed his sensors, making it difficult to find his way through his ship.

“Captain!” a familiar voice wailed from behind him. “What’s going on?! Has Overlord returned?”

Rodimus screeched to a halt, sending sparks flying from his pedes. “No, I don’t think so, Drift. With me to the bridge!”

The prime’s third in command rushed to his side, a hand fixed tightly on the hilt of his sword. “How are you so sure?”

“Because we’re still alive.”

By the time the duo reached the bridge, Perceptor and Ultra Magnus had already arrived, desperately scanning the Lost Light’s main computers for any diagnostics that could help them through the ship’s crisis.

“Any luck?” Rodimus joined his crew at the computer, his optics scanning readings he couldn’t even understand, yearning for even a scrap of clarity.

“Not yet, Captain,” Perceptor answered calmly. “The Lost Light is structurally sound, save the gaping hole in the hull of Swerve’s bar.”

Rodimus’s composure disintegrated. “A _gaping_ hole in a populated area?! I wouldn’t call that structurally _sound_ , Perceptor!”

Perceptor raised a hand, attempting to soothe his Captain’s nerves. “Swerve’s bar has been sealed off for repairs. No one has been in or out in days.” He reached up, pushing the heavy microscope on his shoulder out of the way. “The hull of the ship has also been damaged in a few other places, but they are of smaller size. Our passengers are checking in as we speak. Until I can actually take a look at the damage in the bar, I believe we may have struck a lone asteroid or perhaps some debris that drifted into our trajectory.”

“Swerve has just checked in,” Ultra Magnus chimed, pushing his way into the circle. “No one was in the vicinity of the bar as far as he knew. So far, there have been no reported casualties.”

With that, Rodimus’s adrenaline began to subside just enough for his legs to give out. He let out an exhausted sigh of relief and shrunk to the floor.

Drift kneeled by his captain and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Compared to what we’ve been through, I’d say we’re going to be just fine today,” Drift reassured. Rodimus took his hand and smiled meekly.

Ultra Magnus let out a stern cough. “I wouldn’t make any promises if I were you, not until we’ve surveyed the damage and completed a full roll call.”

Rodimus’s smile faded. “Always the pessimistic one.”

Ultra Magnus huffed. “Not pessimistic. Realistic. Now, shall I go and take a look at the damage?”

“No, first I want every mech on board accounted for.” Rodimus cleared his throat and stood, stepping back into his role as Captain. Drift stayed close, placing an arm around his leader’s shoulders. “Nothing matters more than making sure we’re all alright. Ultra Magnus, I want you to search the ship until everyone has either checked in or finds us. Drift, you’re with me. Perceptor, stay here and keep an eye on the ship’s diagnostics. If she reports anything else, even as small as a misplaced _bolt_ , I want you to ping me and let me know.”

Preceptor was already flicking through the menus of the computer, his microscope reading and archiving the data. “As you command, Rodimus.”

Drift unsheathed his sword as they left the bridge, making their way back into the darkness of the ship.

The pair walked in silence towards the stern. The alarms had been disabled, but the red warning lights remained engaged, and they would stay this way until Rodimus gave the all clear. And from the looks of the situation, Rodimus didn’t think the all clear would come quickly.

“Have you noticed how _few_ of the crew have checked in?” Rodimus remarked, scrolling through the name list projecting from his forearm.

Drift shrugged, waving his sword nonchalantly beside him. “These mechs are probably just shaken up. They’re not focused on checking in as much as making sure those around them are okay.”

Rodimus grunted, dissatisfied with his co-captain’s reassurance. “I don’t like it. My gut feels wrong.”

“Your gut?” Drift cocked his head.

“Earth term.”

As they neared the stern of the Lost Light, Rodimus’s weariness grew. The red lights had begun to flicker, showing signs of wiring damage. In some corridors, they weren’t even engaged. Even worse, it was quiet. A little too quiet for the Captain’s liking.

“This is just like when Overlord attacked,” Rodimus mumbled. “It was so peaceful, and suddenly, everything went wrong.”

“I thought you said we’d be dead by now?” Drift retorted, giving his captain a playful nudge.

Rodimus had no answer.

A ping shot through his arm. “Perceptor?”

“Captain, I haven’t received a single check in since you left,” Perceptor tensed. “Not only that, but the wiring systems have begun to raise red flags all over the ship. It seems the damage is actually starting to spread.”

Rodimus glanced up at the flicking lights above him. “You don’t say.”

“Rodimus, I don’t _like_ this,” Perceptor cautioned. “The Lost Light hasn’t experienced a situation like this before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.”

“Uh, Captain?” A voice murmured beside Rodimus.

“I advise strong caution, Captain. We may be missing some of our crew. Even Ratchet hasn’t responded, and you know he’s always on top of emergencies.”

“Captain?” Rodimus’s annoyance grew.

“I’m starting to wonder if perhaps something or _someone_ is causing this silence of the crew. Although the damage is minor, the aftershock is major. I worry that intruders may have boarded the ship and ar-.”

“Captain!”

Rodimus threw down his arm, snapping to his third in command. “What _is_ it, Drift?!”

Drift raised a servo to the corridor’s end, where a fuming black rock had smashed through the hull and cracked in half. “I think we've found the intruder.”

The duo rushed to the scene, glancing inside to find glistening crystals lining the inside of the rock. Drift glanced into the hole it had caused in the inner wall of the corridor.

Rodimus immediately pinged Ultra Magnus and Perceptor. “We found something. It looks to be some sort of hollow geode that has breached the hull. I want both of you here with me _now_ , and bring weap-”, but before he could finish his transmission, Drift let out a scream of terror and disappeared into the darkness. “Drift!” Rodimus roared, stuffing himself past the rock into the corridor.

“Rodimus!” a distant cry echoed from down the hall. “Help me!”

Something green reached out and smacked Rodimus across the chest, sending him flying back through the air. He landed with a huff as all of the sensory nodes in his body exploded in alerts, flooding his HUD with damage reports. He groaned, rolling back to his feet. Beside him, he noticed Drift’s sword laying beside him, the only source of light in the corridor now as the red lights faltered and faded.

“Oh, _slag_ ,” he breathed.

Drift struggled against the slime oozing ropes wrapped around his legs and torso, dragging him mercilessly through the darkness. He could hear the scraping of his body against cold metal.

“Let go of me, you _freak_!” he snarled, kicking unsuccessfully against the unknown assailant. It only tightened its grip around his torso, making Drift grimace in pain. He desperately searched behind him for his captain, begging Rodimus in his spark to come and rescue him. Drift had always been a great fighter, but without his sword, this assailant’s strength began to seem too great a challenge for him to face alone. Drift lifted his forearm to his face, but his hope dwindled as he realized his communicator module had been damaged in the attack.

“Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me?” he pleaded into the module. No response. “Rodimus!” he shrieked, much to the apparent annoyance of the emerald tentacles. To his horror, one of the tentacles slivered up his chest to his mouth, clamping it shut. Drift strained to look around him. He knew the ship well, and he knew they were moving towards Swerve’s Bar. But why?

The doors to the bar slid open and Drift was dragged inside. The damage was evident in the sparks that flew from the ceiling, raining down upon the floor. Scars lined his passage, and Drift realized these marks were cybertronian. Clearly, he had not been the first arrival. His confirmation came in the horrific scene of Brainstorm’s body lying slumped across the bar. He was covered in the emerald goo, and Drift’s stomach sank at the sight of energon seeping from the mech’s joints.

The pressure from Drift’s mouth was relieved as the assailant’s tentacle released its grasp.

He scowled, propping himself up on his elbows. “I knew a mech just as annoying as you are,” he hissed. “At least Megatron had the decency to kill rather than humiliate.”

This clearly agitated the assailant, and the grip around Drift’s thighs tightened to a vice.

He winced in pain, his scowl replaced by fear. “I’m going to die one day, and it won’t be from a pathetic pervert like you,” Drift stammered in an attempt to reassure himself. Tentacles slithered up his body, nearing his face.

“I won’t die today,” Drift whispered, his spark quivering. “Not yet.”

Swerve’s Bar was doused in silence. No one was coming to rescue him. He lay his head back against the floor, his optics traveling to the window. At least the stars were beautiful tonight.

But instead of pain, Drift only felt a warm sensation against his thighs. The grip loosened. Drift reset his optics and glanced down.

The assailant was surprisingly calm, its limbs slithering along his legs, sliding closer to his panel…

Drift’s breath hitched as a smaller tentacle reached up into the joints of his legs, wrapping around sensitive cables. “Whoa! Okay, _no_ ,” Drift breathed, pulling himself away from the assailant.

A deep growl emanated from the ball of tentacles before him before yanking him closer. Drift felt something in his body crack.

“ _Ah_!” Drift yelped at the sudden invasion of agony. Clearly, this alien wanted him _here_ , and _now_.

The tentacles pressed against the interface panel between his thighs, churning Drift’s stomach. He grimaced and attempted to kick against the intrusion, to no success. The assault continued for what seemed like eternity as the assailant continued to find a way to Drift’s interfacing module. And as much as Drift’s mind fought against the sensations, he couldn’t help but notice his breathing becoming shallow. His spark sank as he realized his body was enjoying this. It was like some kind of parasite had taken over his brain module, controlling his body.

Drift groaned gently as he reached down, attempting one last time to deter the assailant. It calmly wrapped a limb around Drift’s wrist, keeping it still and out of the way. It knew it was in control.

Drift whined, quite pathetically, as his interface panel slid open with a soft _click!_

He gazed shamefully as his spike swelled in response to the warm touch of the tentacles, wrapping around and swelling to engulf it in its grasp. The snow white mech could only watch as his assailant brushed up against his valve. Simply grazing it caused his valve to swell. He could feel beads of lubricant collect and drip to the floor. It had been so long since any mech had touched him there.

Shame swirled in his spark. “ _No_ ,” Drift trembled as he spoke. “ _Please_ don’t.” But the assailant refused to listen.

It pushed against his valve, trying to find a way in. Pain began to invade his sensors, his HUD begging him to find a way to escape. Drift watched the tentacle explore his valve, and with horror he realized it was much too big for him.

“Please!” He wailed. “It’ll hurt!”

As if provoked, the assailant pushed harder. Drift grit his denta as the tentacle began to spread his valve with its girth. He could feel his body struggle to adapt to the new form, steam escaping from between his metal plating as it stretched to accommodate the intruder. But it wasn’t enough.

Drift let out a cry of agony as the tentacle invaded his valve, stretching him further than he had ever known possible. Energon began to mix with lubricant as he felt small tears in his valve begin to widen. Before Drift could even process the size of his intruder, it began to fuck him. _Hard_.

Drift gasped, grasping at whatever he could, anything that could give him leverage as the assailant mercilessly pumped in and out of his bleeding valve. The tentacle around his spike began to create suction, sending ripples that cascaded through his body. Drift bit his lip and offlined his optics. He didn’t want to give this monster the satisfaction of seeing him give in.

The pace of the pumping only increased in both his valve and spike. Drift’s mind weakened, becoming engulfed by the sensations of his assailant. His fans kicked on, straining to keep his temperature moderate. Steam poured from his vents and Drift stifled a groan. Condensation collected on his chest and the red trim of his arms and legs.

Suddenly, Drift’s body left the floor. His optics onlined and he watched helplessly as the floor sank below him. The tentacles easily lifted the mech, suspending him in the air to give itself more leverage. Drift hung limply upside down, his hips clenching against the torrent of sensation. Yet another tentacle pushed its way into Drift’s port. This was too much for the weakened mech. He drew energon from his lips before letting out a loud moan. Now, all three components of his interface module were being stimulated, and Drift felt an overload growing in his stomach.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” he whispered to himself, feeling fluid begin to gather around his optics. The suction around his spike tightened. Drift could feel transfluid being milked out of him.

“ _Don’t_ ,” he whimpered, his legs spasming and his arms quivering in the assailant’s grasp.

His overload cascaded over his body, and his brain module went blank. Drift screamed in pleasure and shame, his optics flashing bright aqua as his body convulsed. “ _Oh, Primus! Oh, Primus! Oh, Rodimus!_ ” He wailed as he panted through the last moments of his overload, feeling transfluid pump heartily from his spike.

“Drift?” a distant voice left unregistered in his audio sensors as Drift’s optics came back online. The monster’s pace did not slow, and Drift watched with mouth agape as his anterior node began to be stimulated. He groaned weakly, watching in wonder and horror.

A second overload was already approaching. “Drift?” The voice came again, and this time Drift registered it.

“R-Rodimus?” he wailed, his optics searching the bar in desperation. Drift watched as the doors were yanked open, sparks flying as his captain finally arrived.

Rodimus groaned as he extended his arms, fire pulsating from between the metal plates of his arms. “Drift, are yo-,” Rodimus was cut short by the scene before him: his third in command strung helplessly in the air by the same monster that had attacked him earlier.

“Captain, please, don’t look!” Drift whimpered, static intertwined with embarrassment. The pleasure grew as smaller tentacles rode his anterior node in circles, and Drift cried out.

“I’m so sorry, Drift,” was all the captain could murmur. Shock had overridden his urge to fight.

Drift felt his legs quaking. “D-Don’t lo-look,” he whispered. The pumping in his valve quickened and Drift wailed as his second overload arrived. He saw his captain cover his mouth in horror, but Drift was completely at the mercy of the assailant.

Transfluid flew from Drift’s spike into the hungry tentacle surrounding it. The metal of his body shook and scraped.

“ _Rodimus! Rodimus!_ ” Drift sobbed, fluid streaming from his eyes and dripping from the spikes of his helm. He shivered in the throws of his overload, his breath heaving as it rippled through him.

Rodimus’s breath hitched at the desperate wailing of his name. He could only watch in stunned silence as his friend was fucked mercilessly through his overload.

As the overload passed, the monster’s pace slowed. The suction on Drift’s spike softened.

Without warning, Drift was released from its grasp, falling to the floor and grunting as pain split through his body.

Rodimus’s trance vanished. He scowled, raising his arms to the monster and firing at will. Explosions shrouded the bar in fire, swallowing himself and Drift. But the captain kept firing, and he could hear cries of agony coming from the sickening ball of tentacles. He kept firing. Rage consumed the captain of the Lost Light. Finally, the cries stopped. Rodimus continued to fire until the ammunition in his arms emptied. The smoke began to clear.

“C-Captain,” a voice whispered beside him.

Rodimus blinked, folded away his guns, and rushed to Drift’s side.

“I’m so _sorry_ , Captain,” Drift breathed, gripping the searing guns of his leader’s arms.

Rodimus smiled, amused by his comrade’s apology. He had just been violently assaulted, and here he was apologizing to his captain. “You have _nothing_ to be sorry for,” Rodimus whispered, pulling Drift into his arms.

He held him tightly against his chest, only freeing a hand to open a communication module. “Ratchet, I found Drift. He needs medical attention _now_. We’re in Swerve’s.”

The pair waited for Ratchet in silence. Drift had dug his helm into his Captain’s chest, finally feeling an ounce of safety after one of the worst nights of his life. “What’s…,” Rodimus mumbled behind him. The captain’s golden hands reached forward, brushing against Drift’s thighs. Drift winced and glanced down, seeing energon mixed with an unknown opalescent black fluid pouring from his interface panel.

“Oh, _Primus_!” Drift wailed in horror. He hadn’t even noticed.

He scrambled to his feet, touching his valve and pulling away hands covered in black slime. “Rodimus, what did it _do_ to me?!”

Rodimus scowled. “ _Argh_! _Ratchet_ , I want you here _now_!” He cried into his forearm’s communicator module.

Drift sunk to the floor, energon churning in his chest.

At some point, he heard Ratchet come in, but Drift couldn’t bring himself to register the questions being asked of him. Arms wrapped around his torso and lifted him over a shoulder, and Drift was relieved to realize it was his Captain’s. Drift fell into recharge as he was carried to the med bay. At last, he was safe.

For now, at least.


End file.
